


Artemis and Apollo

by Somewhat_timeless



Series: The Artemis and Apollo series Part Une [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Somewhat_timeless/pseuds/Somewhat_timeless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was supposed to be a boy. She should have at least been beautiful like her mother. All she had been was a disappointment, and for her parents that's all she'd ever be. </p>
<p>short summary, I'm sorry, I don't want to give too much away.<br/>I'm sorry that it involves an OCF, but please give it a chance I swear it's really not as bad as you're probably assuming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Artemis' Blessing

**Author's Note:**

> once again I warn and apologize about the OCF but she's a really well developed character.  
> in this story I want to do more than ship her with Enjolras. I want to explore her life, personality, and the relationships she shares with other characters.  
> I hope you guys like her, I tried so very hard to make her lovable but realistic.

 

_Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables, if I did though this is kind of how it would go._

 

             Her mother’s name was Melpomene Argyros, a pure Grecian beauty who had been sent to a boarding school in Paris. She was gorgeous, with rare blond hair and blue eyes, they said she resembled Helen of Troy. Yet she was lacking in personality, Melpomene was always very obedient and proper. She had never a thought of her own and all of her opinions were given to her, because she couldn’t form her own. Her greatest trait was her manipulation and reliance on beauty to carry her through life. She was always surrounded by willing young gentlemen, who would give her anything for just a passing glance. It might be her obedience that attracted the onslaught of men to her feet. She kept to herself and never talked back, a trait that men sought in wives. It was no surprise that many young gentlemen begged to court her. Here she was, exotic, proper and educated. But when young Leopold Beauparlant asked her to marry him Melpomene’s family was shocked to find that she had accepted.

             Leopold was the opposite of his fiancée, he spoke his mind often and he was always very obnoxious as a young man. These two people did truly love one another, they balanced each other out, Leopold spoke for Melpomene and she soothed his terrifying passion. He chose her opinions and she chose his clothes.

             Leopold insisted they were married in Christian fashion, and in a traditional Parisian church. He also decided that they would continue living in Paris after their union. At this point Melpomene had been away from her homeland for 13 years. Yet she never complained, wanting only to please her husband. The first couple of years into their marriage were frustrating, they tried hard to have a baby. Melpomene prayed every night to Artemis for an heir, a boy for her husband. Leopold on the other hand prayed to his God, he was very skeptical of her prayers and had no faith that ‘Artemis’ would bring him a child.

            Of course this tale wouldn’t exist if her prayers had been anything but successful. For five years into Melpomene and Leopold’s marriage they were both blessed with their first of four offspring.

            Tragically, a girl.

            Leopold was unable to hide his disappointment and Melpomene refused to hold her daughter, choosing instead to wallow in her guilt. It was the child’s nurse that named her Artemisia, for she was literally the gift of Artemis herself. Leopold tried to show interest by giving his daughter her middle name; Lenore. She was beautiful, the ethereal image of her father, which was also a disappointment. Yes, Leopold was handsome with his dark hair, honey brown eyes and pale skin, but Melpomene was a godlike beauty with olive skin, gold tresses and eyes like the Mediterranean Sea. It did upset her that her first and possibly only child would not inherit her looks. Her allure the one thing she could give her baby.

 

* * *

 

            Artemisia was not cherished like she should have been, often ignored, a neglect that could cause permanent damage. She spent a lot of time alone and she began to prefer it. If she needed something she would simply ring for her nurse.

           Of course every child needs exercise and Artemisia’s nurse made sure that the little girl got it. They would take regular walks together in the early morning along the streets of Paris, the nurse Chantelle hoping that the small child would become interested the other _enfants_ running about. To Chantelle’s delight a young boy did catch little Artemisia’s attention one morning.

           It had been merely a passing glance that Chantelle got of the boy before he vanished, but he had seen Artemisia and she likewise. He was olive skinned like her mother and had a messy dark mass of curls on his head, nearly the same color as Artemisia’s own. She was unable to decide what color his eyes were from the distance but they were light. He was running along the street, weaving through people’s legs in an impossible hurry to get to what Artemisia presumed was school. Artemisia was only five at the time, so he was probably ten if she had to guess.

           He had stumbled in front of them and sent his loose papers flying. Many of them were covered in messy doodles, Artemisia noticed this when Chantelle bent down to help him collect them. After the young man had collected his things he stood up and caught Artemisia’s awed gaze. He smiled lightly at her and mumbled a quick “merci” to Artemisia and Chantelle before darting in the direction of the sound of school bells.

          Chantelle resumed her walk briskly towards the bakery, lightly tugging on Artemisia’s hand to help her along. Glancing down at the little angel beside her Chantelle chuckled when she observed the still bewildered look on her little lady’s face.

         “You seem very impressed with that young _garcon_ that bumped into us. No proper manners that little lad” Chantelle giggled looking down at Artemisia. The petite mademoiselle returned her gaze with a firm nod of agreement. Her expression shifted into a brilliant baby toothed grin.

        “He smiled at me Chantelle, I think he would like to be friends!” Artemisia replied cheerfully.

        Chantelle grinned happily and squeezed Artemisia’s hand encouragingly “I hope you two become friends Artemisia, I really do”. Artemisia slowed her pace a little before snorting at her nurse “But Chantelle how will he and I become friends if I don’t even know his name?”

       Chantelle kept walking but tapped her chin thoughtfully “maybe, if you are on your best behaviour today, then I’ll bring you along to do the afternoon chores and you might see him again when all the boys get out of school? “ she glanced at Artemisia out of the corner of her eye to see her Madame nodding slowly.

      “Yes, I do believe that sounds agreeable Chantelle, I will be very proper and ladylike today” Artemisia said using her father’s business man tone. Chantelle held her free hand to her lips to stifle her breathy chuckle in a ladylike manor. Chantelle observed the way Artemisia’s posture shifted into the perfect straight backed style of a bourgeois lady. The nurse’s face slid into relaxed smile as they stepped into the bakery.

       Artemisia was always allowed to look around the shop while Chantelle flirted with the handsome young baker’s daughter. Artemisia loved the warm smell of fresh bread, just the same as anyone. Her mother was never able to cook like this, the best thing her mother could do was sew clothes. Even that hobby was amateur, Melpomene would much rather buy dresses with Leopold’s money.

       After Chantelle was done buying the family’s bread, and teasing her lover, Artemisia followed her out to go home for her morning studies. As they walked Chantelle handed Artemisia a small macaroon from the dozen she had bought at her girlfriend’s insistence.

      “What’s the rule ‘Temisia?” Chantelle reminded her,

     “Don’t tell Mama or Papa and I can have as many sweets as I want.”

     “Exactly, and there are twelve here, so six for me and then six for you” Chantelle said decisively. Artemisia bounced in her step excitedly at the thought of so many treats.

     “We have to savor them ‘Temisia, you don’t want to eat them all in a hurry and have no more for another week.” Chantelle told her firmly.

     “Of course Miss Chantelle, I understand” Artemisia confirmed as she bounded up the stairs of her house and began to push open the large doors. Chantelle sighed in relief and scurried up the steps after her charge. Within a minute of stepping across the threshold of the Beauparlant house, Madame Melpomene was there grabbing Artemisia’s forearm. “You’re late for your Greek culture studies, _diavolaki._ You go off to the library right now!” the frustrated Mademoiselle hissed shoving her daughter down the hallway.

     Chantelle had already scurried off to the kitchen to down her chores, eager to finish in time so she could take Artemisia out in hopes of finding that young boy. It would be quite simple really, it’s not like she had to clean the entire house! Well, maybe not the whole place, but simply a vast majority of it.

 

* * *

 

     The petite mademoiselle yanked her arm from her mother’s grasp and hurried down the hall to escape her mother’s tense impatience. She slipped quietly through the large library doors to greet her tutor with a tight smile. The stern Monsieur Pierre-Andre Reynard, was short for the average Frenchman, he was willowy in build, lanky with no muscle. He of course towered over little Artemisia, but as the years pass Artemisia would tower over him and this would give her the confidence to be a little more cheeky with him. Monsieur Reynard was strict but not cruel, so when she slid through the door with her forced smile, he returned it with sarcastic grimace. “haha, yes Madame Artemisia I know you are a few minutes late, just get in here so we might begin your studies alright?” the Monsieur rolled his eyes at the little _fille._

     They studied the story of the twins ‘Artemis and Apollo’ born to Zeus, the god and goddess of the sun and moon. The teacher and student both had an agreeable morning without anger or upset. Artemisia showed immense interest in the story of her namesake, it made her feel happy, proud, and most of all, important.

     After she practiced her Grecian poems and wrote out the Greek alphabet, she was sent out for her dance and vocal lessons. Artemisia learned dance from her mother, traditional ones that Melpomene learned when she was young. Artemisia always tried her very hardest to make her mother proud at every chance she got. So she practiced every day in hopes that she would earn some praise from the woman who claimed to be her mother. If she missed even a step in the dance Melpomene would become agitated and cranky, a side of her _Maman_ she wished to avoid.

    “Alright, _mikró korítsi_ go through that one more time and then you can go help Chantelle with the chores as you so like to do. “Melpomene sighed holding her hand to her chin on her opposite arm.

   “ _Nai mama,”_ Artemisia nodded, taking her position. She began to jump and twirl in rhythm with the beat, waving her arms perfectly. She was breathing heavily and perspiring lightly when she finished smiling wide for her mother.

   “ _Thav̱másios,_ wonderful! My darling you did well today. Now please go before you ruin my absolutely terrific mood my dear” Melpomene proposed pinching the bridge of her nose.

   “Um, no vocal lessons today mother?” Artemisia asked weakly trying hard to accept the sugar-coated insult.

    “No, I don’t believe I can stand your tiny soprano voice today, might just give me a headache my angel” Her mother replied waving her hand dismissively.

    Artemisia grabbed her textbooks and worksheets before she scurried out of the room. Rushing up the staircase to her bedroom, she threw open the doors and tossed her supplies to the floor. With her school things scattered about Artemisia smiled proudly at the mess, then ran out her door again slamming it behind her and racing off to find Chantelle.

 

* * *

 

 

    “CHANTELLE?! MADAME CHANTELLE? “Artemisia hollered down the hallway. When no response came from the kitchen she ran off in the direction of the gardens, passing her father’s study along the way.

   “Artemisia, _S'il vous plait_ , BE QUIET!” her father shouted from his office room.

   “ _DESOLE_! PAPA, I’M SORRY!” Artemisia screamed behind her, spotting Chantelle in the gardens trimming the rose bushes. She grinned evilly and sprinted towards her nursemaid stopping just short of the teenaged woman.

   “CHANTELLE!” the tiny goddess shrieked right into her poor nurse’s ear. Chantelle had expected the surprise though so her only reaction was a small smile that spread across her face. She removed her gardening gloves and set them down beside her. Without responding to the impertinent child she grabbed her trowel and other tools heading back to the kitchen to store them.

   “MADAME CHANTELLE?!” Artemisia whined grabbing onto to the tall girl’s skirts, stumbling along the path to the kitchen. Chantelle whistled along and continued to playfully ignore her little banshee.

    After she finished putting away her things Chantelle turned around to scoop the red-faced child in her arms. She kissed the little darling’s cheeks lovingly, causing Artemisia to giggle uncontrollably and wiggle around in a vain attempt to free herself. They laughed together happily as Chantelle set her down gently.

   “Ready to go, _ma déesse_? “ Chantelle inquired.

   “Oh yes _ma soeur_! I have been ready for AGES, but my noisy tutor wouldn’t release me!” she cried, swooning melodramatically and clutching her maid’s dress in feigned distress.

   “Then we must be away, to find this strange ill-mannered boy of ours!” Chantelle exclaimed grabbing her purse and Artemisia’s hand. They made their grand exit back out onto the streets of Paris.

    It was busy and crowded but no different than how it always was. Even though Artemisia was well adjusted to the franticness of the city, she and Chantelle could both become anxious out there. They squeezed each other’s hands in reassurance and shared a determined stare before they swung open the gates of the house together and stepped out into the bustling mess of humans.

    They walked briskly following the pace of the people. The pair’s first stop was the bookstore, Monsieur Beauparlant had given Chantelle money for some specific authors he needed and another textbook for Artemisia. She was to begin learning Math.

    Artemisia sat at a table with Chantelle’s basket placed protectively in her lap, swinging her legs in a bored fashion.

   “Ready to go _Ma Lune_? We can eat lunch in the Luxembourg” Chantelle sang cheerfully placing the books in her basket. Artemisia nodded in response, hopping up off of the bench at the table.

   “Did you get any good fiction stories, Madame _Soeur_? They’re not all boring business books and stupid textbooks, yes?” Artemisia begged tugging on Chantelle’s skirt again.

   “Well I was able to get a book on Greek mythology, all kinds of fairytale stories of your mother’s culture, very interesting I’m told” Chantelle said manipulatively.

   “You can’t trick me into learning outside of my studies, Madame Chantelle!” Artemisia teased running of through the gates of the Luxembourg gardens.

    Chantelle rolled her eyes and followed slowly behind the child to find a relaxing spot in the shade of a tree. Even if Artemisia didn’t want to learn more about Greek mythology didn’t mean she wasn’t interested in it. She opened the book and began to read about the origins of Zeus and his siblings. She was careful to keep an eye out for what Artemisia was up to. Speaking of whom, Artemisia still ran about sniffing flowers and splashing in the fountain before she grew bored of that behavior and came to sit quietly beside her _grande soeur._

    “Did you know Chantelle that this is my favorite part of the day? Running errands with you, being outside of that stuffy old house. “Artemisia mumbled sincerely.

    “Is that so? Well _petit soeur ,_ it always makes me glad that you like to join me on my errands, your spirit makes it less like a job and more of an adventure” Chantelle stroked the little girl’s hair lovingly. They sat together quiet and happy, Chantelle combing her fingers through Artemisia’s hair absentmindedly as she read, and Artemisia was half asleep when the school bells rang out. Artemisia was unpleasantly jolted awake by the loud sound, and Chantelle removed her hand from the girl’s head startled slightly from their peaceful quietness.

    It wasn’t long before Artemisia was off to smell the roses again, so to speak. Chantelle let her go and turned back to her book knowing that the five year old would not go far. It didn’t take the young boys much time to come gallivanting through the gardens playfully punching and hitting each other.

    Artemisia was in amazement of the comradery of these boys, how they seemed to be brothers in the way she and Chantelle were sisters. Not by blood but by heart and spirit were they connected as family. She was mostly delighted when she saw the same mop of dark hair that had bumped into her and Chantelle this morning.

    Her face lit up like a candle as she waited patiently for him to come closer, hoping to confirm her suspicions that this was the boy from this morning.

    His gaze was on the ground, he walked slowly and lazily, to Artemisia’s surprise he was not surrounded by friends as she suspected he might be. The scene made her sad and hopeful all at once. It was sad that he was alone with no friends, but this meant that he needed friends just like she did and that it was entirely possible that they could friends to each other.

    His eyes lifted from the stone path just long enough for him to spot her, and her heart lifted when he smiled in recognition. He picked up his pace slightly, coming towards her. She smiled brightly back at him and met him in the middle.

   “Bonjour, Monsieur! My name is Artemisia Lenore Beauparlant and we met this morning when you bumped into me and my nursemaid! I turn six on October 21st, and I don’t have any friends.” She squeaked out, looking a little embarrassed at herself. The boy looked at her half in amusement and half in empathy.

    “I don’t have any friends either, so I guess we should become friends with each other since we both don’t have any, Mademoiselle” he said with light-heartedness in his eyes. Artemisia cheered happily and embraced his side, taking long strides to keep up with his long-legged pace. Chantelle glanced over at the two of them and she hugged her sides to contain her jubilation. She was so happy that Artemisia was making friends finally. The two children sat on the grass together a little way away from Chantelle

    “So, uh, what is your name Monsieur?” Artemisia inquired politely.

    “I’m called Rene Grantaire, call me Rene or R, that’s how I sign my drawings anyway” he chuckled pulling some papers from his satchel and unrolling them to show her.

    Artemisia took her pointer finger and ran it over the watermark at the bottom.

    A big cursive,

    **R.**

 


	2. Things change

  
_**Disclaimer: I do not own Les Miserables**_

* * *

 

  
      The two children sat together for hours, little Grantaire showing Artemisia all of his drawings with excited flourish. Artemisia was very pleased to be in his company, to see all of his splendid drawings and she was even more delighted when he gave her a bit of charcoal. He gave her small instructions on the proper lines and strokes to make, after a while it seemed that she had a knack for drawing. ‘I’ll never be nearly as good as R though, he’s so talented and mature’ she thought when she peered over his shoulder to see his newest work.

  
     “That looks like Madame Chantelle, my nursemaid, it’s very good R!” she exclaimed pointing at the accurate sketch of the tall teen who sat in the shade a foot away from them.

  
     “That’s because it is ‘Temisia, I’m going to add you to it when I’m finished drawing her” Grantaire chuckled nudging her shoulder with his. He went back to shading the maid’s straight brown hair, when he was finished shadowing her hair and face he began with the basic shapes of Artemisia’s figure. “You must add yourself too Rene, it makes sense because you are drawing the scene we are currently settled in.” Artemisia insisted using her pinky figure to point out the gap where he should be. Grantaire nodded thoughtfully, agreeing with her completely. He added his figure to the picture quickly to appease her, glancing at her and catching her eye, he allowed her a glimpse at the change. Artemisia nodded “yes that looks quite right,” she turned back to her stick figures and frowned “you are so very excellent at this Rene”.

  
      “It comes with practice ‘Temisia, I’m five years your senior, I’ve had plenty of time to develop my skill,” Rene reminded her “you are doing much better than I was at five years old”. Artemisia sat up straight in surprise, looking between him and her drawing. He kept his eyes trained on his work not showing any reaction to his own compliment or her bewilderment. Artemisia didn’t need anything more than that reassurance, and he understood that somehow. She stared at him a bit longer with a content smile on her face before returning to her own work.  
Artemisia stared at the scribbles she’d made with the charcoal, they formed three smiling people. The tallest one had long hair and a long dress, the middle figure was of course herself, and the last had a nest of curly charcoal colored hair. She grinned at them, the first picture of her and her only two friends in the world.

  
     “Artemisia! Ma petit soeur, it’s getting late we must get home for dinner!” Chantelle yelled out for the little girl, standing and brushing off her skirts. She made her way to the two children, her basket on her arm smiling sadly at the pair. Artemisia pouted and tried to hand the charcoal back to Grantaire. He pushed her hand back, nodding at her “keep it, I want to see more drawings the next time we meet each other, keep practicing yes?”.

  
    Artemisia handed her paper and charcoal to Chantelle so she could embrace him. He returned it with equal fervor squeezing her tightly to him, he blew on her forehead as they separated. Artemisia giggled and waved goodbye to him “Au revoir, Rene, I hope to see you as soon as possible!”

  
    “Soon I’m very sure ‘Temisia!” Grantaire promised waving back and running off in the opposite direction out the gate of the Luxembourg Gardens. Artemisia watched him until he was completely out of sight, then she was on her way in the other direction before Chantelle knew what was happening. “We must hurry home Madame Chantelle, I want to continue my drawings! I must have much more material to show Rene when I meet him again! Did you know that he has Greek genetics too? His father was Greek! He learns Latin and a little English, in school! I wish I knew that many languages!” Artemisia rambled as she bounced down the much less crowded street. Chantelle could hardly contain her joy for Artemisia, this was all so amazing, the poor girl was finally making friends.

 

* * *

 

   

   Artemisia would never truly know how pathetic she was.  
She never had to know that she was and it’s not like she had anyone around her honest enough to tell her this. Except maybe her mother.

  
     Artemisia was heartbreakingly pitiful. Chantelle knew this somewhere deep in her subconscious, keeping this to herself allowed her to enable Artemisia’s actions. She knew it was silly to get so worked up over a frumpy boy like Rene Grantaire, from the looks of him he wouldn’t last. Their relationship would end quickly and Artemisia would be sent straight back to where she began. Chantelle couldn’t think about that though, she had to push it down inside her and focus on what Artemisia needed now.  
Artemisia was still filled with boundless energy, which she eagerly displayed as she ran as fast as she could down the cobblestone path. Chantelle had to skip slightly to keep up with the overjoyed little rascal, the tall woman chuckled airily at her antics.

  
      They grew closer to the large estate as the sun fell lower in the sky. Chantelle had finally caught up with Artemisia and had grasped the girls’ hand to keep them together. Yet the girl still pulled her nursemaid along with an unusual amount of strength. Artemisia was out of breath by the time they reached the iron gates of the Beauparlant house, but she still pushed them open with all the force in her tiny body. That wasn’t enough to make the gates budge though, so Chantelle helped her.

 

     Their days continued on like this for a couple years, the usual pattern. Grantaire and Artemisia grew closer, the young man seemingly amused by the little girl who followed him around restlessly. But things change as they always do, seasons change. Life begins and Death takes as is the true course of sentient experience. In this course a new life had a part to play.

 

* * *

 

       It was a horribly rainy day in Paris when the Beauparlant parents announced the arrival of their next child. Artemisia had just turned seven that October twenty first, she seemed outwardly indifferent to the arrival of a sibling. She already had a brother or at least that’s what Grantaire felt like to her, and he was enough companionship for her. An annoying little brother or sister was too much for Artemisia who had grown used to being alone, grown to savor it.

  
       The next nine months were tiresome, Chantelle was at her mother’s beck and call. This meant that they couldn’t go out as often and Artemisia hardly saw Grantaire, this being extremely upsetting to her. She was forced to wander the grounds and listen to her mother scream for things as she laid lazily in bed. It seemed like it lasted forever and Artemisia couldn’t help wishing for July to be here already. By the beginning of May Artemis noticed something very strange occurring as she caught servants packing the family’s things away, especially her things. It hadn’t happened enough for her to become suspicious of this activity.

  
        Her brother arrived quickly, quicker than she had according to her father. He had said that with such venom in his tone Artemisia could not understand, it wasn’t like she had been late on purpose. Her brother was named Tiberius Leopold and was a golden blonde angel, as spoken by her mother with tears in her eyes. Artemis couldn’t comprehend what all the fuss was about Tiberius was wrinkly and pink and loud, but her parents adored him despite that. Artemisia allowed herself permission to pout in the corner like a spoiled brat. The worst wasn’t over yet, in the afterglow of Tiberius’s birth her father took her aside gentler than he had ever and let her in on the worst of all news. They were moving to Athens, Greece, her mother’s homeland to raise her brother. Artemisia was devastated almost determined to run away and never look back. She bit her cheek to hold back her tears of anguish, nodded to her father before she bolted down the hall towards her room. She opened her door tripping over the thresh hold falling to her knees sobbing. She pulled herself up wiping her snotty nose on her sleeve as she dragged her body to her bed. She climbed up slowly hissing when she rubbed her rug burned knees on the coarse bedspread. She flung herself down weeping into the bedspread until she fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

      A week later the Beauparlant’s had all but moved out of the house, already having a nice one being readied for them in Athens. Chantelle wasn’t coming, her parents insisting on keeping her in Paris, so when Melpomene was distracted with moving out Chantelle took Artemisia out on one last errand run. They sat in the Luxembourg gardens waiting for the boys to get out of school. Artemisia was forlornly playing with a piece of charcoal as she attempted her own watermark on the drawing she planned to give to Grantaire. The bell sounded letting the boys out of the school house. Artemis tensed remembering the hard news she had to deliver to her friend. Tears welled up in her eyes when she saw the familiar dark mass of curls on the twelve year olds head. He smiled happily upon spotting her and ran towards her.

  
      “Artemis! Bonjour! How are you this fine afternoon? Artemis, Ma Cher why are you crying?” Grantaire asked placing a concerned hand on her shoulder. Artemisia sniffled and handed him her drawing “I made it for you to remember me by” she whispered. Grantaire frowned deeply and seriously for such an age “You speak as though you are dying?”

       Artemisia nodded gravely “We are moving far away and I’ll never get to see you again” She cried. Grantaire sighed sadly “I see. This is tragic Artemis” He mumbled “But I will see you again. Artemisia, Paris is where you belong. You will come home someday. I am sure”. Artemisia smiled and threw her arms around him for one last time.

 

* * *

 

 

         They landed in Athens after a month of travel in a stuffy carriage. The house was beautiful, granite and marble, white walls and blue tinted windows. They had a gorgeous rooftop garden that Artemisia would spend hours in reading and drawing. While the Mediterranean Sea was beautiful the streets of Paris were where Artemisia belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:  
> Enfants- Children  
> Garcon-boy  
> Diavolaki- little devil, elfin  
> Fille-girl  
> Maman- mother  
> Mikro Koritsi- little girl  
> Nai Mama- yes mama  
> Thavmasios- wonderful  
> S’il vous plait- please  
> Desole- sorry  
> Ma déesse- my goddess  
> Ma soeur- my sister  
> Ma lune- my moon  
> Soeur- sister  
> Grande soeur- Big sister  
> Petit soeur- little sister
> 
> please leave comments and criticism.  
> it would mean the world to mean to hear from you guys.  
> tell me what you think of Artemisia!


End file.
